


Running Away

by PiratesDragon



Series: Winchester and Watson [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Crossover, Dean is in Hell, Gen, Post Reichenbach, on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiratesDragon/pseuds/PiratesDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam decided he needed a change of scenery. His brother, Dean, was stuck in Hell and he'd tried everything he could think of to save him. But it was all for nothing. The guilt, the pain, the fucking despair was getting to be too much for him. The looks Bobby had given him the last time they'd seen each other was what really pushed him over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Away

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little comment fic inspired by a post on Tumblr. You can find it [here.](http://asgardiantimelord.tumblr.com/post/42291650222/i-am-the-doctor-and-i)

Sam decided he needed a change of scenery. His brother, Dean, was stuck in Hell and he'd tried  _everything_ he could think of to save him. But it was all for nothing. The guilt, the pain, the fucking  _despair_  was getting to be too much for him. The looks Bobby had given him the last time they'd seen each other was what really pushed him over the edge. 

He just needed to get out. To not be  _t_ _here_  anymore.

So, three weeks later Sam got on a plane to London. He contacted one of the local hunters and asked for him to set him up with some place to stay for awhile. He wasn't sure how long he'd be there, but he wanted to be comfortable. He refused to live out of one of those tiny rental cars with steering wheel on the wrong side. Besides, he'd spent enough years sleeping in the Impala with his brother.

_Dean._

Sam's gut clenches as he thinks about his brother. It seems even leaving the country wasn't enough. It would never be enough. The pain would follow him wherever he went. But at least here he could breath. He could let his mind just wonder and not think about what was happening to his brother at this very moment. Not think of all the ways he'd failed to save him. Just  _not think_. 

As the walks out of the airport and climbs into a waiting cab, he looks once again at the text message from his local contact. 

 

 **221b Baker St.  
** **ask for a Mrs. Hudson**

 

He tells the cabbie where to go and let's his mind go back to  _not thinking._  He stares vacantly out the window. He'd always wanted to see London, but now he just lets all the sights pass him by. He can't take pleasure in this. It's not a vacation. It's running. He's just running away from everything.

Sam blinks in surprise when he realizes they've stopped. He pays the cabbie, grabs his bag, and climbs out of the car. The first thing he notices is the  _Speedy's Sandwich Bar & Cafe_ and for a second he thinks he's in the wrong place. Then the door next to the litte cafe opens and an older women is waving and smiling at him. 

"Ah hello dear. You must be Sam," she greets as he walks up and shakes her hand. "I'm Mrs. Hudson. Come in, come in. I do think you'll like staying here. The flat is just up these stairs. Follow me, I'll show you."

Mrs. Hudson leads him up the stair case to the flat. As he looks around he notices the it's not empty. In fact it's quite messy. There's a laptop open on the table by the windows, a dark overcoat hanging on the coatrack, and just  _stuff_ everywhere. And is that a skull on the mantle?

"Uhh..." Sam can't quite get the question out.

"Oh yes, it is quite a mess in here. I tried to help him clean it up but... well he's not been very social lately and... it's just been very hard on him you know."

"He?" Sam manages. He knew he'd be renting a flat, not that he'd be renting it with someone else.

Before Mrs. Hudson can answer there's footsteps on the stairs and seconds later a man walks through the door. He's wearing jeans and a knit sweater. A jumper they'd call it here. Sam immediately recognizes his stance and manner as that of someone who's seen battle. And his eyes. He recognizes the look in that man's eyes because it's the same look he sees in the mirror every morning.  _Pain. Loss. Suffering._

"Is this him then?" The man, who's head just reaches the height of Sam's shoulders, extends his hand for a firm handshake. "You must be Sam. I'm John. John Watson."

"Yeah, Sam Winchester. I, uh, wasn't aware that I'd be living with anyone. But it's fine," he says quickly. "It just took me by surprise is all."

"Well I'll go put the kettle on and let you boys get aquainted," Mrs. Hudson says as she bustles out of the room.

There's a long, almost awkward silence between the two men. Then John seems to shake himself into action.

"Right. Well. This way then. I'll show you where you can put your stuff. Sorry, about the clutter. I just, well, I just haven't had the chance to clean it."

"It's fine," Sam says as John leads him to the bedroom he'll be staying in. Once again, he's surprised when it too is a bit cluttered. He wonders why it wasn't cleaned out when they heard he'd be coming to stay. Usually that's the way it works when renting a flat to someone, even if it's a shared flat. He decides to ask.

"Um, I was just wondering... who does this stuff belong to?" He gesture at the cluttered room. Sam doesn't miss the sharp flash of pain and loss in the other man's eyes. He couldn't miss it, the look is so familiar.

"It is -- was -- my friend's." John sweeps his gaze over the room. "He, uh, well. He...died. A few months ago."

Sam knows then that he's made the right choice. Yes, he ran away. But he knows that here he can maybe start to breath again without it hurting. He knows because the man standing across the room is the same as him. They've both lost someone they care about. They both breathe the same pain. Maybe they are completely different. Lord knows, nobody could ever be like the Winchesters, but in this they are the same.

Maybe, with the two of them, it wouldn't hurt so much.

 


End file.
